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Chapter: 35
In any case, my reputation was already at rock bottom.
Finding someone who held a favorable opinion of Silvia Atlante was harder than finding a needle in a desert of sand.
On the other hand, if you gathered everyone who felt negatively toward Silvia Atlante and lined them up, they’d circle the Atlante ducal estate ten times over.
And being expelled from high society… honestly, I’d welcome it.
Just one day.
It had only been a single day, but it was more than enough for me to understand what high society was really like. After roughly grasping the atmosphere, this was the conclusion I reached.
I’m never coming back.
The dresses were beautiful, and I liked how I looked in one.
But wearing them for too long was uncomfortable, and I hated being told I couldn’t eat because it would make my stomach show.
I was exhausted from dodging people who kept trying to strike up conversations, and even more tired of staring into empty air just to avoid making eye contact.
Alright. I’ve decided.
I had no lingering attachment to high society anyway. I didn’t care if my reputation got even worse.
The duke’s warning—telling me not to bring further disgrace upon the family—did bother me, but dancing with the Crown Prince like this felt far more uncomfortable.
I did want to change the future, but not like this.
The person the Crown Prince was supposed to ask for a dance right now wasn’t me—it was Eirin.
My younger sister, Eirin, of all people.
I don’t know why he’s acting like this, but…
In Silvia’s memories, she had inserted herself between Eirin and the Crown Prince countless times, and every time, it had ended in humiliation.
I never wanted to become an obstacle between the two of them.
No. I want to become someone who doesn’t even exist to them.
“Lady Atlante?”
Instead of placing my hand atop the Crown Prince’s conspicuously empty one, I slightly bowed toward him.
“I’m terribly sorry, Your Highness. I can’t dance.”
“…What?”
“I haven’t danced in so long that I’ve completely forgotten how.”
The Crown Prince let out a hollow laugh, as if dumbfounded, and I smiled back at him.
Then he erased the smile from his face and said,
“That doesn’t matter. I’ll lead.”
So he won’t back down over something like this? Then I have no choice.
I launched my second attack.
“But what should I do? I’m feeling quite unwell. I don’t think I can stay standing any longer. I believe I should return home.”
Even to my own ears, my voice sounded theatrically exaggerated. The Crown Prince’s expression creased ever so slightly.
Still, he quickly recovered his usual beautiful but artificial smile.
“Is that so? How unfortunate. To have allowed an ailing lady to suffer like this—it seems the preparations for the ball were inadequate.”
“No, Your Highness. I was managing fine until just now. It’s only that suddenly—my condition worsened.”
Because you asked me to dance.
“I see. Then you should return home immediately.”
“Yes. That would be best. I’m honored by your invitation, but I don’t think I can enjoy that honor today.”
I’ll be leaving, so please dance with Eirin like you were meant to.
“Well then, Your Highness, I’ll be on my way.”
“Wait.”
As I lifted my skirt to take my leave, the Crown Prince gently placed a hand on my shoulder.
The intimacy—so close and tender, like something shared between lovers—made my body stiffen. Yet he spoke calmly.
“I’m not the kind of man who lets an ill lady return alone. I’ll escort you home.”
“What? No, that won’t be necessary. Please enjoy the ball, Your Highness! It’s your birthday, after all!”
I tried desperately to stop him, but the Crown Prince was unyielding. He smiled and tightened his grip on my shoulder.
“There’s no need to feel burdened. I have no reason to remain here anyway. Something far more interesting has come up than wasting time in this dull place.”
…Surely he didn’t mean me by “interesting,” right?
“Let’s go.”
A bad feeling crept over me.
It seemed escorting me home hadn’t been an empty promise.
The Crown Prince exited the ballroom with his hand still on my shoulder.
“Your Highness. Could you please remove your hand?”
“Didn’t you say you were too unwell to support yourself? Why not lean on me fully instead?”
“No, thank you. I’ll pass.”
He really was impossible to reason with.
Was he always like this?
In Silvia’s memories, the Crown Prince had been distant—a man romantically linked to her younger sister, and one she was on poor terms with.
Naturally, Silvia and the Crown Prince had never met privately. Whenever they did encounter each other, Eirin had always been between them.
Silvia and Eirin being in the same place usually meant Silvia was tormenting her.
Because of that, the Crown Prince had never treated Silvia like this.
He’d either been expressionless, looked at her as if she were pathetic, or regarded her with thinly veiled irritation.
“I thought the rumors were exaggerated, but seeing you in person, that doesn’t seem to be the case. You’re so different that I wouldn’t think you were the same person.”
He hadn’t talked this much before, nor had he gone out of his way to engage with her.
“What on earth happened?”
“Nothing at all.”
At my firm reply, the Crown Prince fell silent.
…He wasn’t angry, was he?
He’s still the Crown Prince. Maybe I was too rude. In a rigid class society like this, falling out of favor with him wouldn’t be good.
Thinking I should smooth things over somehow, I cautiously glanced at him.
And then—
What? He’s smiling?
The Crown Prince was smiling.
Not the artificial smile he always wore like a painted mask, but one that seemed to come from genuine amusement.
His fake smile never changes—it’s flawless and fixed. But right now, his face is slightly creased.
Not severely—just faint lines around his mouth.
Still, seeing a man who usually lived like a flawless marble statue show such a human expression was surprising.
He can smile like that?
It was my first time seeing it, and honestly, it was the best expression I’d ever seen on him.
Normally, he lacked any sense of humanity—but seeing this made him seem like an actual person.
But why is he smiling?
I hadn’t said anything funny. No matter how I thought about it, I couldn’t figure out the reason.
Is the Crown Prince actually someone who laughs easily?
I knew that couldn’t be true, yet the mystery of his smile left me grasping at absurd thoughts.
Before I could solve it, we arrived at the line of waiting carriages.
I searched for the Atlante family carriage, but the Crown Prince gently guided me toward an especially ornate one.
“The ducal carriage should be used by those who remain behind. This one will be better.”
Before I could even respond, he opened the carriage door.
“After you.”
I stared blankly at the hand he offered.
He’s not going to ask me to dance in here, is he?
When I just stood there staring without moving, he asked in a lightly amused voice,
“You’re not going to refuse me again, are you?”
“What are you planning to do?”
“…?”
At my question, he looked at me as if he couldn’t believe I didn’t know.
What? People should explain things with words. How am I supposed to read minds?
“Escort you.”
“Oh. An escort.”
“Yes.”
“You mean me.”
“Yes. You.”
“I can get into a carriage by myself.”
I had plenty of experience doing that.
“The imperial carriage has especially high steps. Even men sometimes find it difficult. Accepting my help would be easier.”
He wasn’t wrong—the step was unusually high. Perhaps because the carriage itself was about one and a half times larger than the others.
If I slipped or missed a step, I’d get seriously hurt.
Why was it built like this?
Did no one consider the struggles of shorter people? Not everyone is tall and lanky like the Crown Prince!
After glancing back and forth between the step—about as high as three ordinary stairs—and my feet in high heels, I quietly accepted his escort.
With his help, I boarded the carriage easily.
As expected of an imperial carriage—it was lavish inside. The seats were soft, too.
Is it because so much money was poured into it?
I was admiring the interior when the Crown Prince entered through the open door and sat across from me.
“Wait a moment. Why are you getting in, Your Highness?”
“It’s my carriage. Is there a problem with me riding it?”
“…But we’re going to my house.”
“Yes.”
He answered carelessly, then ordered the coachman to depart.
The carriage jolted lightly and began to move.
Inside the carriage headed for the Atlante ducal estate, the Crown Prince was still there—sitting across from me.
I had no idea how I’d ended up riding in a carriage beside him like this.
Today is full of things I don’t understand.
The most incomprehensible of all being the man in front of me, behaving nothing like he did in my memories.
I considered saying something to the shameless Crown Prince, who had followed me aboard and even crossed his legs, but I didn’t want to engage. I ignored him and looked out the window instead.
I hoped we’d reach the Atlante estate quietly, without exchanging a single word.
But of course, he spoke—choosing that topic of all things.
“About the incident in the garden earlier.”
“…Incident?”
“A man fell on his own and broke his leg.”
“Oh my! How shocking. How does one fall badly enough to break a leg?”
“Apparently, not just one—both legs were broken. Completely crushed. It’ll be difficult to treat.”
“Oh dear. How tragic.”
While I replied like that, my thoughts went elsewhere.
Sylphid… You didn’t just break them—you completely crushed them?
